Trying to Remember
by Spencer M. Collins
Summary: In the middle of the war, when for a second it seemed like Hope was back, Fleur Delacour suffered an old curse. Her memory was wiped clean, and fixing it seemed like an impossible task. Hermione, terrified her love won't recognize her when she would wake up, and knowing she would have to leave when morning comes, writes down their love story in hopes of fixing all that is broken.
1. Chapter 1

_Fleur Delacour hated England and all that it entails. She would even resent me for writing this story in English, same as she resents her Mother for teaching it to her so well, that sometimes, she spoke it without noticing. But, alas, I am not fluent in French, and so I shall tell this story the best way I know how, truly sorry in advance._

 _I'm writing this words on this parchment with only her in mind. There is still so much fight left, there is still so much for me to do. When morning comes we are to leave._

 _I'm currently sitting in the big brown leather chair she loves so much. I dragged it here, next to her bed. She looks so young when she's sleeping, no worries are evident on her face. I don't know how I am going to leave her. Some part of me is glad though. The thought of her opening her eyes, looking at me and not recognizing me. The thought of her dark blue eyes looking at me with anything but warmth. I can't even imagine._

 _Fleur, mon chéri, you fought well, you saved me yet again (and to think I asked you not to make a knack of it the first time). They say you won't remember me, or anything for that matter. They say I shouldn't be here for that, that Apolline will take care of everything and that she will fix you._

 _She told me to leave a photograph of us (Kind of lucky that you won't remember how much you hate this photo. Never understood why though, you look stunning here). She told me it's a long process and that I should be focusing on saving the world._

 _You're my world, and I would always save you._

 _With the last hours I have until dawn I'll write it all, from the first time I ever truly laid eyes on you, and then no matter what will happen, you'll know. You'll know._

 _I can't write it as if I am talking to you, I can barely write as it is. My heart ache for you to hold me, or at least for you to squeeze my hand back. I'm starting to get emotional. Let me just begin._

 _I first saw Fleur Delacour when I was in my fourth year at Hogwarts. Disliked her from the first moment I've ever seen her. She was the appeal to all the boys, and the envy to all the girls, and she seemed to like it (now I can tell for certainty that you indeed do). That, with her being a little bit mean to Harry after he was chosen as the fourth champion, was enough to justify my feelings. The first time we spoke had defiantly changed some things:_

Hermione was in the library. She was still feeling upset from having to listen to both Ron and Harry complain about each other, and she was sick of passing notes between them like she was a bloody owl. She was looking for her favorite book _Hogwarts: A history_ , which she hoped would give her some much needed peace. The bushy haired girl walked slowly through the aisles, trying to avoid Ron's eyes, breathing the familiar smell and grazing her fingers gently upon the books as she passed. Upon reaching the desired isle, she directed her eyes towards the book's resting place, but instead of beaches of knowledge and the promise of relaxation, she was met with an empty space.

Angry, she stomped to where Madam Pince were and with a much harsher tone then she anticipated she asked, "excuse me, where exactly is _Hogwarts: A history_?"

"Dear, haven't you read it a thousand times?" The librarian tried to reason with her.

"Did someone checked it out?" Hermione ignored her, feeling like she couldn't catch a break at all.

"No." She simply said, no further explanation given. After receiving Hermione's famous glare, the woman seemed much more inclined to continue. "If it's not there, it must mean someone is reading it at the library." She said sternly, and then she added, "and I would ask for you to not disturb who-"

But Hermione didn't seem to want to hear the rest, for she backed away from the librarian and began to exam the covers of the books people were reading. Cedric Diggory sat by himself at a table near the window, reading some book about the dark arts, Luna lovegood seemed fully submerged in _The Monster Book of Monsters_ and no other table revealed someone reading _her_ book. She walked further into the library, next to the restricted area was a small hideout place, where Hermione loved sitting and reading away from watchful eyes.

Indeed, someone was there. Fleur Delacour, the girl Hermione hadn't dedicated another thought towards other than dislike, was sitting there, looking quite entailed with the book she was reading. The French girl was wearing black jeans and an over-sized blue jumper. She had her hair up in a messy bun, and Hermione had to admit that when Fleur didn't know she was being watched, she looked somewhat human; her back not completely straight, but instead hunched a bit, to look at the book resting on her knees. Her expression didn't seem distant or superior, but rather interested and focused, and Hermione thought for a second that she wouldn't mind seeing her more like that.

A little hesitant, her anger mostly gone after she saw Ron being yelled at by Madam Pince earlier for bringing chocolate into the library, she walked towards the blonde sitting on the floor and asked quietly "Is this _Hogwarts: A history_ perhaps?". Fleur lifted her gaze from the book and looked at Hermione as if trying to concentrate at what she just asked. Her stern look, Hermione assumed would shortly return to mask her face, was nowhere to be seen, and instead a look of soft confusion appeared in his place. The young Gryffindor knew all too well the feeling of being yanked out of a book, smiled a little and pointed towards the book, repeating her question. Realizing, she simply nodded at the brunette. "Okay, well, are you planning on keep reading it?"

"Amm. Zust ztarted actually." She lifted the heavy book to show Hermione how many more pages she had left. "Trying to learn about 'our school." She added, straighten up a little.

"Oh." Said Hermione quietly, and when Fleur gave her a questioning look, she remembered she was somewhat in a middle of a conversation. "Most people who go here seem fine with just being around and learning on the go. I don't know of anyone but me who've read the book." She wasn't sure why was she still talking to her.

"So 'ou've read it?" A smirk forming on the Beauxbatons girl's face. Hermione simply nodded, feeling the familiar blush forming on her cheeks. "And 'ou're looking for it to read again?"

"For the fourth time actually." The younger girl answered honestly, feeling like there was no reason to not own up to who she was exactly. Fleur smile grew bigger with Hermione's confession.

"Superb. Tell me zomething. Which house was Voldemort in?" She asked, noticing the way Hermione shivered when she mentioned his name.

"Hmm, Slytherin"

"I can zee zhat. Victor muzt be feeling at home." She added the last part quietly more to herself.

For the first time since Hermione came to the school, she was feeling like she didn't really know all the students. Given, a few dozen people from both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived at Hogwarts for the Triwizard tournament just a few weeks ago, but the problem was that for lack of proper sorting, there was not telling of the newcomers dominant feature. The only thing she knew for sure was that the Durmstrang boys preferred sitting at the Slytherin table, and that the Beauxbatons sat with the Ravenclaw.

Hermione wondered what bad blood could possibly be between the two, for they only been her for three weeks. And as blunt as ever, Hermione asked exactly that. Fleur laughed, a genuine, reaching dark blue eyes kind of laugh. She took a second to take Hermione's form in, her eyes running up and down the younger girl's body, taking everything in, as if she just discovered this long lost treasure. "I don't zhink I zhould say." She answered, still smiling.

Hermione, seeing that the other girl still looked fine with the intrusion finally felt comfortable enough to sit down, and she lowered her body to lean on the wall facing the other girl, their legs lightly touching. Quickly, Hermione drew her legs into herself with such force that she banged her knee into her chin and made a grunting noise. She tried to mask it as her plan all along by placing her head on top of her knees gently, not wanting to hurt her bruised chin further, and opened her mouth to ask her next burning question when she detected the look of concern on Fleur's face. The brunette gave her the best reassuring smile she had managed, considering the fact she couldn't understand why the other girl looked this agitated regarding to her stupid injury. To keep herself from feeling embarrassed she eagerly asked "Why shouldn't you say?" As if the conversation hadn't been interrupted.

Another laugh. Hermione thought she wouldn't mind hearing that again also. From the three minutes encounter, she knew she wanted more of Human laughing Fleur. "He likes 'ou".

"What?"

"Looks at 'ou alwayz, here all zha time." She said as if it was the most natural thing in the world (Which it is, for her at least).

"You see him looking at me?" The younger girl found herself deeply more interested with Fleur noticing her, than with Victor Krum. She thought to herself that she only noticed because of the older girl's dislike towards him, and also that if she herself doesn't like Fleur, and Fleur doesn't like Victor, by that math Victor and her should be best buddies at least. Lastly, she pondered why is she sitting here talking about this instead of the book she came to collect, but even with all those logical scrambled thoughts in her head, she didn't seem to move a muscle, waiting for Fleur to answer.

"What iz 'our name?"

This certainly wasn't an answer. She was about to state just that to the girl, but when she opened her mouth, her speech was long forgotten, and her name shot out instead "H-Hermione Granger."

"'ermione Granger." Fleur said the name in a smoother voice as if seeing how it feels against her tongue, making its subject blush a bit more. "I zee you whenever you're near." She added quietly, her dark blue eyes looking directly into Hermione's, honest evident in them.

Hermione wasn't sure if that was the answer she had been hoping for, but it was defiantly an answer.

 _After that we fell madly in love. No, I am only joking. We weren't even close to that._

 _She simply left the library, leaving the book behind her. No words passed between us in the corridors, no smiles exchanged in the great hall over bacon and eggs, nothing like that. The only thing that changed was that I began to see her whenever she was near._

 **-End of chapter one-**

 **Not sure if I should continue this.**

 **Would you like me to write chapter two?**

 **Tell me what do you think.**

 **Thanks for reading:)**


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm so conflicted now. A part of me just wants to stop writing this, go down to the kitchen and make you some crepes for when you'll finally wake up, but the other part is telling me it will be an empty gesture, because you won't remember it's your favorite food (or that you always say that you're not sure what's better, my crepes or an orgasm, only to make me give you one to set the record straight, resulting in you combining your favorite pass time activities, while I am left with cleaning the kitchen), and in the long run, staying here and writing this to you will prove more beneficial (Apolline, If you're reading this, forgive me, I'll try not to get into graphic details about your daughter's sex life)._

 _Besides, I don't think I'll ever be able to get up from your bed side. I'm afraid my legs will fail me. And if not, say, if I'll manage to walk downstairs, hold Harry and Ron's hands and apparate from here, down another chase after the next horcrux to destroy, what will stop me from crumbling to pieces whenever I'll smell the sea after the rain (This is how you smell, at least to me), or to break down crying late at night cuddling into your jacket? (Oh, I'm taking your black corduroy jacket with the fur with me) Probably the boys. I have to be strong for them and they have to be strong for me._

 _Listen to me, only I'll manage to ramble in a letter and I've only covered our first conversation yet. Let's see, where was I?_

 _Oh yes, I was starting to notice Fleur more and more. I noticed that she didn't eat anything at breakfast, and instead she was drinking from a white mug I have never seen before. I noticed that she almost didn't go anywhere without another Beauxbatons girl which I later found out named Sophie. I saw her talking to Victor Krum a few times, looking rather nice and polite, which only made me have more questions, after she said quite clearly that the Bulgarian champion would feel at ease sitting with the members of the house the dark lord had previously been in._

 _That was the worst part; before, when she was just another intruder to my school, I didn't give her the time of day, but then, after just one conversation, I couldn't stop looking for her in any room I walked into, and any new information I found out about her just raised my confusion that much more. For starters, I couldn't tell you (even if you had held my latest potions essay above a toilet) why I was so intrigued with her. Seriously, I had no bloody clue. Second, even after accepting fate and believing I was doomed to look up whenever someone walked into the room for the year to come, I still had all this questions I wanted answers to. All in all, I wasn't having the time of my life. So, when I spoke to Fleur for the second time, it was like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders._

It was around eight o'clock on a cold night in the midst of November, the first task mere week away. Hermione was sitting in her favorite armchair, enjoying the fire warmth. Out of character, the young brilliant witch wasn't reading, writing or preparing for the O. a year in advance, Hermione was looking at her two best friends sitting on opposite sides of the common room, each trying to deal with the foolish made-up assignment of writing a dream diary. Hermione wouldn't ever admit it, but she highly preferred that the two gits would sit together and annoy her for defiling the sanctity of the proper homework making, instead of this silly, silly fight.

Feeling bothered and restless she rose from her sit and sank next to Harry. The dark haired boy simply nodded his head in acknowledgement and continue to work. After several minutes of Harry trying to think about ways to die and Hermione simply half lying with her head leaning on Harry's arm not speaking, the boy snapped and threw his parchment on the table.

"All right?"

"Been better." She simply sighed.

"Come on." He replayed, getting to his feet.

Hermione straighten up on the couch and looked at him with questioning eyes. One can surely understand her - it seemed like Harry could only talk about the tournament lately, and now he was standing in front of her with a mischief spark in his eyes. "Come on." He repeated, "we have a bit of time before curfew, let's breath some fresh air."

Delighted that Harry seemed calmer, she quickly jumped to her feet as well and followed him out through the portrait hole, both missing Ron's longing stare.

"So I am going to see Hagrid tonight." Were the first words to come of Harry's mouth. "He insisted."

"But what about Sirius?" Hermione easily slipped into one of their familiar conversations.

"I'll just have to make do."

"Okay but -"

"Hermione." Harry interrupted her. "Come on, let's for tonight pretend my best friend is still my best friend, I'm not going to fight seventeen years old skilful wizards and witches" at that Hermione's stomach clenched a little. "and my godfather isn't running from the law as a big black dog."

"Shh.." She hissed at him. "pretending doesn't mean you can belt out crucial kept secrets." She shot him her death glare to make sure her point has come across.

Harry raised his hands in defeat and smirked at her. "Of course not."

Nearing the castle doors, the pair hid and quickly looked around, making sure neither Filch nor his cat Mrs. Norris were around, they were minutes away from curfew time.

"Why didn't you bring the map?"

"You don't approve of the map."

"I don't approve of you _having_ it. I'm also not approving recklessness, and as you already have the Marauder's map, and are not planning of getting rid of it - let me circle back to my original question, why didn't you bring the map?" Asked Hermione in a loud whisper.

"I forgot." Said Harry looking apologetic, expression which quickly changed to annoyed after Hermione hit him on the arm "Oww, that hurts."

"Come on, I don't hear anything." Said the brunette and then ran out of the castle, feeling free and joyful. Harry was quick to follow and the two kept running and laughing like kids, heading towards Hagrid's cabin.

"Do you want to visit him?" Harry wondered why his friend who seem to enjoy being outside at the moment, wanted to be cramped up into Hagrid's already small quarters.

Hermione, knowing exactly what he meant slowed down. She turned to look at him, a little flushed from the run and the cold air, her hair running wild all over her face and the huge smile plastered on her face, Hermione looked more happy than she looked in a while. "Force of habit." She laughed. "Used to go in this direction, I'm not usually _just_ going outside."

"Yeah, when you can stay inside your cozy little library." Said Harry triumphantly.

"It's not small." Hermione came to a complete halt "There are hundred thousand of books - " she stopped abruptly, shaking her head in amusement. "Stop distracting me." She said sternly, hands on her hips and her back arched backwards a little. "I was just trying to say that I am enjoying being here. If I _you_ want to we can visit -"

"No, I think we can live on the dark side for a change." Harry concluded laughing.

Hermione, still in her earlier strict position, looked at him sternly, but watching Harry clenching his stomach and laughing let out a smile break her mask. This only made the boy laugh even more, and they found themselves laughing lightly while continue to walk aimlessly.

 _I'm sorry. I have to stop writing for a second. Harry is calling me - real life, seventeen years old, shaving Harry. I am just pointing this out in case he will say something worth mentioning here, and also, to explain why the sequence of the story will be harmed (If it actually will. I'll try my best to continue without additional glitches)._

 _He came up here. He's looking at me funny, I'm stopping now._

 _I'm back, it was nothing important. I still have a few more hours. Okay, where was I? Harry and me, after curfew, walking. Got it._

Eventually, Harry and Hermione ended up near the black lake, leaning against a bolder. It was getting colder, and the two sat close together, shoulder to shoulder, trying to keep warm. Hermione placed her hand on the ground, gliding her hand in the damp grass, breathing in the smell. Her hand felt a rather large rock, and at the spur of the moment she decided to pick it up and throw it to the lake. Harry, startled when the rock hit the water, caught up rather fast and a moment later, they were throwing rocks like their lives depended on it.

"You throw like a girl."

"I _am_ a girl - what's your excuse?" Hermione asked playfully.

suddenly, they heard light stomping sounds a bit further down the river. Horrorstruck, Hermione looked at Harry, both panicking. Hermione's breath became stagier. All she could think about was that if she would be caught, it will ruin any chance for her being a prefect next year. She scooted closer to Harry, taking his hand and dragging him further into the bolder, hopefully more out of sight. She raised her hand to her mouth, trying to calm her shaky breath down.

"Oh, relax 'ou two were so caught up in 'our little date, you didn't realize I waz sitting right zere." It was Fleur. She pointed to a smaller rock, closer to lake.

It was Fleur, standing above them. Hermione blushing furiously let go of Harry's hand. She looked over at the older girl, taking her appearance in. Fleur was still in her Beauxbatons robs, but she ditched the hat and let her hair fall freely on her shoulders. She was holding a small black leather book with no writing on it, front and back. Hermione guessed it was probably a journal or a notebook of sorts, she was wandering if the girl was keeping a diary, maybe she was one of those - "Oh!" Hermione let out after realizing neither Harry nor she had said anything since Fleur last spoke, a few good moments ago. "Hmm, no, we're not - Hmm, thank Merlin it's you, no, well, I mean - I'm glad you're not a teacher or a certain cat." She finished lamely. She looked over to Harry, who just nodded, saying nothing.

"A cat? asked Fleur, her brow frowned in confusion. "Do I remained 'ou of a cat?" She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in question.

"No!" It was Harry's turn to make a fool of himself apparently. "She meant Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat." When Fleur didn't answer he thought it would wise to further explain, "you've probably seen her around, she has weird yellow eyes -"

"I know ze cat. yez." She snapped. The French girl looked over at Hermione and saw how uncomfortable the younger witch seemed to be. She relaxed her features a bit, taking a deep breath, trying to urge Hermione with her deep blue eyes to look up at her. Fleur sighed in defeat, believing the brunette's hands were probably much more interesting than she was, she backed away, adding snarky "I'll leave you love birdz alone then."

"No." Finally brown locked with blue.

"No?" Harry and Fleur asked in unison.

"Hmm -" Hermione looked between her best friend and the girl who were keeping her up at night. And she reached a decision "no, don't go."

"What did 'ou had in mind mademoiselle Granger? Didn't think 'ou were kinky." Fleur smirked at her.

Even with the rather dark surroundings, it was clear that Hermione's neck and cheeks were dark red. "What? I don't want!" A deep breath. "I-I just have a few questions to ask, if it's possible, if you're not too tired of course."

Harry was intrigued and confused as hell. He didn't know that the French champion who had referred to him as 'little boy' and his best friend knew each other, let alone by last name. Hermione seemed to understand the state he was in, but what would she to say, 'I talked to her for five minutes two weeks ago, and ever since I've been dying to know more about her.' No, that wouldn't do it.

"I zuppose I can spare a few minutes." Fleur answered, her face a complete mask of indifference.

"Hmm, okay, I'll go then?" The boy half told half asked no one in particular.

Not one to argue with the possibility of picking Fleur's brain uninterruptedly, Hermione didn't stop him. She smiled and nodded at him with as much reassurance in her eyes as she could mastered.

They were left alone. Fleur, feeling rather interested, sat down where Harry had previously sat, a few inches to the left though. The girls weren't touching, but both could feel the heat radiating back and forth between their bodies.

"Let'z hear it." Fleur said almost sweetly, her face less strict, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Just like that?" Hermione felt much bolder after Fleur opt to sit next to her instead of staying literally and metaphorically above her.

"Qui."

"Why have I never seen your face like this since the last time we were alone?" The question shot out of Hermione so fast, she gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Fleur seemed unfazed. "personal question, okay." She nodded. "You alwayz with people who annoy me I guess."

"And I don't? - Annoy you."

"Non, 'ou don't."

"Okay, hmm.." Hermione tried to think what she wanted to ask next.

"Non, mon chéri, if 'ou zust want to azk questions 'ou can write zhem and give to me. We are, 'aving, what you call it - a conversation." Fleur smirked at Hermione's baffled stare. "I ask you now." She tried to simplify it to the young girl.

"Oh." Hermione was dumbstruck, she couldn't rap her head around why the blonde was interested in her. "Hmm, okay." She whispered softly.

"What'z 'our favorite color?"

A sudden laugh escaped Hermione's lips at the odd question. "Grey."

And so it went. Hermione found out that the white mug Fleur drank from in the mornings was filled with coffee. She told Hermione that she was so used to start her mornings with coffee, she had to find the kitchen and ask the house-elves to help her out. This, obviously began a long discussion about S.P.E.W, which Hermione had to admit, Fleur had some good opinions about. She also learned about Sophie, Fleur's best friend since they were babies, and how Sophie is the only person that mocks Fleur (constantly I later found out), and not feeling scared of her icy stare. She told Hermione about her sister and family, and in return Hermione shared tales about her quirk-stubborn muggle parents, a few adventures Harry, Ron and her had (not going into too much details, still remembering Fleur's comment about not liking them) and some downright strange facts about herself Fleur seemed interested about, such as how she eats her scones, which class is her favorite, is she ever wears her hair up and so on. This questions of course made Hermione curios about what Fleur's answers to them would be, and so they kept talking for the better part of the night.

At midnight, Hermione finally looked down at her watch. She had to look two more times to be sure. Midnight? That means the two girls were talking for two and a half hours. Hermione smiled at how natural it felt.

"'ou happy with little sleep?" Fleur asked after noticing Hermione's smile.

"We should go to bed now, shouldn't we?" She said, but made zero effort to move.

Chuckling lightly, Fleur rose gracefully and offered Hermione's her hand. Hesitant, she took her hand, feeling tingly and warm everywhere Fleur was touching her. With surprisingly strong grip, the older girl brought Hermione to her feet, not hurrying to let her go. They stood rather close, looking intensely into each other eyes. With her free hand, Fleur tacked a stray curl behind Hermione's ear, lingering for a moment more, lightly grazing her cheek. Suddenly breathing heavily, Hermione quickly drew back trying to calm herself down.

"See 'ou around, Oui?"

"Defiantly." Hermione answered all too eager, in a shakier voice than she planned, drawing another heartfelt laugh from the French woman.

"Maybe tomorrow?" Asked Fleur confidently. "We can do homework in zhe library." She suggested.

"I'd love that." Hermione smiled so big her face hurt. "Seven?" Fleur nodded slightly.

Hermione retracted back towards the castle with a final wave, forcing herself not to turn around or to trip awkwardly, though Fleur was probably gone, so it most likely didn't matter. Nevertheless, the tired girl made it a point to look at the ground to avoid stones or branches all the way to the castle doors, not knowing Fleur stood there looking at her until the small brunette was safely back in the castle.

The blonde shook her head in disbelief at the events of the evening she just had before turning elegantly towards her warm room at the second floor of the blue carriage.

 _So yes, this is how Fleur and me became friends. Well, not friends per se, more like friendly with a twist._

 _I didn't know why I ended up on Fleur's good terms when most of Hogwarts' students were the recipients of her cold and arrogant demeanor, but far be it from me to doubt it. I simply ignored the un-friendly, tingly, warm thoughts I got whenever she was around and was just glad to have her, any way she'd let me._

 **-End of chapter two-**

 **Wow. This were a lot of words. Seriously guys, I wasn't sure where to take it, but I was touched by your reviews, so I gave it a go.**

 **Will try to think about what I want to do for the next chapter...**

 **Hope you like it.**

 **Oh, if you have anything you want to ask, review it and I'll answer it in the next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi, quick announcement.**

 **I'm changing the way Fleur is talking - English is already not my first language, and thinking how it should 'sound' in a French accent is annoying to me. Thank you for understanding.**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

 _So I've realized I've been writing for forever and I've barely covered our first two conversations, so I've decided to use the artistic freedom I do so enjoy as the sole author of this morbid love story (yay, lucky me) and recap what happened with our study 'date', so I can move on to bigger, better and more important content of our exciting story._

 _Fleur didn't show up. I played it fairly cool at first - I casually looked around all tables and at my hideout place she seemed to like but the French beauty was nowhere to be seen. Obviously, the appropriate reaction was to automatically think she was playing me and that it was all a rouse to make Harry fail in the first task or something similarly sophisticated, and I bowed right there and then to never talk to her._

 _I managed just that. When she came to talk to me the next morning outside of the great hall I simply hurried past her._

 _Then the first task came._

 _Wait, I got carried away with the story and forgot that it's not a one point of view mystery story and that you're in a clear disadvantage, so I'll add that you are, to this day, certain your excuse for not coming was an obvious one (and I think you could have handled it better, but who am I kidding, you act first, think later kind of gal) - Gabriel was feeling ill, and sweet angel you stayed to care for your baby sister._

 _In that task, each champion had to retrieve a golden egg kept by a mama dragon. One important thing I'll mention about the first task- she was rather brilliant fighting those dragons, very strong, independent woman vibe._

 _Now that I think about it I'm about to write about the night of the first task, which can count as our third conversations, so in fact, I didn't really skipped anything (Merlin, you were bloody right when you said it's a pill I can't halfass anything)._

Hermione was certainly in a better mood. Not only did the boys made up, but Harry was through one life threatening task. She was currently sitting on an empty bed next to Ron with their legs dangling back and forth, almost, but never actually, hitting each other. They were in the hospital wing, keeping the lightly bruised Harry company.

Harry was tired and hurting, but with the present of two out of three other champions in that room he kept a straight face, trying to catch up with Ron.

"Yeah, and she was so mad, I almost peed myself when she yelled at you." Ron said laughing.

"I'm not an owl." Screamed Harry and Ron in unison. The giggling pair looked to Hermione, excepting to see the dead glare that usually followed a snarky comment towards her, but the brunette wasn't even looking at them. Her legs, still moving, touching - not touching Ron's, but her eyes and focus were elsewhere entirely.

The fourth year wizard was looking intently at bandaged Fleur in her bed talking with her sister Gabriel and her best friend Sophie. She never wished to understand French as she did at that moment. The group seemed to be in a middle of a heated discussion and Hermione was dissecting each new expression on the older DeLacure's face.

"Hermione." Harry tried. "Hey- hi." He was waving his hand in her face now.

"What?" The witch asked. Not quite ready to avert her gaze.

"What are you looking at?" Ron pondered. "Plotting new ways to destroy the Beauxbatons?"

"No." Harry said dramatically. "They are friends now."

And that did it. Hermione's head snapped to them and before Ron could start with one of his speeches she said. "We are not friends. I am sorry that I spend every day with either thing 1 or thing 2 here." She pointed between them, rising up from the bed and placing her hands on her hips. The two wizards looked at each other, knowing they were in deep shit now. "And I wanted to learn and experience, something you- clearly don't care about."

"Okay, okay." Harry said, hoping Ron won't push the subject further.

"So, why did you look at them?" Ron asked naively, looking at Harry for support.

Hermione was taken aback by the question. She was pretty certain she knew why she was interested of Fleur for the last few weeks, but to say it out loud to Harry and Ron had to be the stupidest thing she could possibly do right now.

"Okay, Ronald, I think we had enough for one evening." The champion said, smiling warmly at Hermione. "We don't want you to gain one friend and lose the other in a span of mere hours. Don't we?"

Ron looked between Harry and Hermione and knew that there was something he was missing and he felt even worse for letting that bloody stupid fight carry on for so long. "Yeah." He said, feeling instantly proud of himself. "I'll go rest for a bit and tomorrow at breakfast we'll finish catching up." He said and hoped off the bed heading for the door.

"Night." Harry managed to yell before the read head was out of sight.

"Breakfast tomorrow with Ron." Hermione said, sounding repulsed. "And I thought there was no silver lining to that fight of yours."

"Thought the exact same thing." He laughed, "but I'm sure you've missed the part where you tell him how disgusting he is and hitting him with the Daily Prophet. "

"True." She smiled at him, pleased with seeing the smile reaching his eyes. "Now go to sleep so you can wake up tomorrow morning fresh and ready to start working on the second task. Nox." She finished and the bed side lamp shut off.

When he finally fell asleep Hermione was ready to leave. If only he would have fallen asleep half an hour ago she could have walked out past Fleur's bed and ignore her like she planned, _but_ if Fleur would call her in this deadly quiet room she couldn't just ignore her couldn't she? But, alas, the blonde turned to sleep approximately 20 minutes ago, and missed her chance to call Hermione. She buried her face in her hands and prayed for _all_ the thoughts that she just add to disappear.

"Good night Harry. Good job today." She whispered, and got up to leave. She walked by Fleur's bed, not daring to glance.

"Hermione Granger." She called, just like Hermione said she would, and as she imagined she did not ignore the call.

"Hey." She whispered.

"Are you free to listen now?" Fleur asked with a half asleep sweet voice.

"I guess - yeah, I am." The younger girl answered and strode towards the bed. She sat on the small chair next to the bed, sat with her legs crossed and threw a blanket on top, stretched to the neck. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She smirked. "Not complaining."

"Good."

"Gabriel- my sister."

"I know."

"She was really sick, and she misses home. I had to stay with her." Fleur tried to explain, keeping her voice steady.

"Of course, I get that." Hermione answered in a rather cynical tone.

Fleur seemed relieved. "Oh, good. You seemed annoyed."

"I am annoyed." She said more harshly than she intended. "I mean- like- you could have stopped over at the library for like a minute." Hermione tried to smile but they were too close. "That would have been nicer." She finished lamely.

"Our first fight." The French girl laughed.

"Yeah." Hermione was lost.

"I tried hard to talk to you all week." She said, scooching further away on the bed, leaving enough room for a person to fit. "I don't usually try this hard." Hermione's stomach was all knots with the last comment.

A yawn, a big noisy yawn left Hermione's lips. They were laughing at that and Hermione feeling less anxious, "why do you want to try hard?" She asked quietly. "I know why I want to try hard."

"Kid, climb up." Fleur giggled. "You had a long day." She lifted the blanket lightly, hoping the brunette won't decline.

Hermione looked in her eyes, half waiting for her to drop the blanket and laugh at her and half excited and thrilled.

"I am tired, but-"

"no buts"

She took a deep breath and rose from the bed, biting her lower lip nervously. She sat on the bed with her back to Fleur, preparing herself. Then she felt a small touch on the back of her hand, jolts passing through her whole body. She turned around and placed her head on the pillow, mere inches away from the blonde's. That was it, that moment. They both felt it, for Hermione it was new, exciting and right, simply right. For Fleur it was familiar but ten times better, she was right about the young Gryffindor.

Hermione, feeling brave, tucked a strand of hair behind Fleur's ear, caressing her cheek gently with her thumb. Fleur, moving forward, captured Hermione's lips in a small short kiss. Another small peck and she pulled away, smiling warmly.

"So, how was your week?" Fleur asked.

 _The most scary moment of my life up to this point. You took my breath away than and you still take it away now._

 _I won't lie, it was a rocky start, mostly because of the Yule ball events. We didn't really talk about it, so I am not that thrilled to write about it, but what's a relationship without mutually hurting each other at the very beginning?_

* * *

 **Hey, I really hope you enjoyed reading.**

 **Please tell me what you think and ideas of how you think I am going to continue it or how you want it to continue.**

 **Thank you,**

 **Spencer.**


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